Socks, Death & Life in 2020

Tony Robert Cochran

On December 27th, I opened my email and received the word of the day, fainéant. This obscure word, derived from French, seemed to encapsulate my feelings about the last, crawling days of 2020. The roaring 20s’ of the 21st Century opened, unfolded, and ended with a kind of jolting and exhausting chaotic static. Just before the window closed on international travel, I left Warsaw for Rome in late February. Returning to a place I had never been before, yet one that is my father’s home: Italy. On my way to Sicily, the nation went into a hard lock-down, and I spent 95–100?–odd days with Alex in Naples. We had taken the train from Rome to Naples, rented an apartment for a short stay, and the night after the day where I found myself sitting at an outside table at the famous Caffè Gambrinus, a place both Oscar Wilde…

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